


in this twilight our choices seal our fate

by orphan_account



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Misogyny, Murder, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Sexual Content, two bros killing people together because they are gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24238120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: the berlermo game of thrones AU literally no one asked for
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Ariadna Cascales, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Tatiana
Kudos: 29





	in this twilight our choices seal our fate

**Author's Note:**

> be warned that this story contains murder, misogyny and implied torture and rape

The night Lady Tatiana of House Karstark dies is a warm summer night, uncharacteristic for the harsh climate of the Dreadfort. Lord Martin pats the back of his liege, Lord Andres of the House Bolton, Warden of the North and slips inside his room, shushing away all the other members of the household, telling them to leave their lord to grieve. Only Martin knows what he needs and as they lay in bed together, Andres uncharacteristicly solemn after his fifth wife's death.

Lady Tatiana was the only wife of his that Martin had met. She was a true northern lady, all iron and ice, but even she turned her nose up at the centuries old traditions of her husband. In the beginning, Martin didn't mind her much, he told himself she had the soft heart and mind of a woman and that wasn't something he could hold against her. Sneaking around with Andres, for a quick fuck in the stables or watching Andres using his enhanced interrogation techniques on a peasant whose life Tatiana begged for gave him a thrill. 

But soon her nature got the better of her. She started meddling in Andres' affairs, made him look weak, something Martin wouldn't dream of doing. She'd ask for mercy, for charity, telling Andres that that'd make the commonfolk love him. Andres would never be loved, not as much Martin could love him anyway, because he was of House Bolton, whose sigil was the flayed man. Soon, sneaking around her back and playing games with her was not fun to Andres.

Andres had a fondness for Tatiana and that made something ugly rear its head in Martin's stomach. Martin had heard tales of Andres' previous wives, how cruel and awful he was to them, how the circumstances of their death were strange, that that's why he didn't have any children, because the Old Gods cursed him. So Martin got him Tears of Lys.  
Andres needed to have an heir or else his line would end with him as his young brother Sergio had passed away of smallpox as a young child. So his council thrusts upon him a new wife. Lady Ariadna Dayne, of House Starfall. Martin handled all the preparations for the Dornish girl's arrival. His father had always said that he was the best butcher he'd seen, he knew how to kill a lamb without poisoning the meat. The trick was hiding the knife. If the lamb saw Martin's knife, it'd struggle and all that fear seeped into its meat.

Lady Ariadna is the opposite of Lady Tatiana. Lady Tatiana was a loud-mouthed Northern lady, who drank any lord under the table and rode as good as any jousting knight. Lady Ariadna is clothed in purple silk, with the grace and poise of any proper lady from the South. The girl is young and beautiful, looking around with fear at the Dreadfort with those big green eyes. Lady Ariadna curtsies in front of Martin, like a lamb being led to slaughter. Oh, little lamb, what a slaughter it will be.

"You're a sight for sore eyes but we didn't expect you'd arrive so early, Lady Ariadna. Lord Bolton is out hunting. He should be back in time for the feast."

At the feast, Andres walks in his finest clothes, bowing in front of the little lady. He takes her hand and kisses her and she gives a shaky, insecure smile. 

"Lady Ariadna, when they talked about you they didn't do proper justice to your beauty."

"Thank you, my lord. The Dreadfort is quite beautiful."

"Please, just Andres." he purrs and turns to , whispering 'this will be a fun one' in his ear.   
They get married within a fornight, with Andres in his best furs and Lady Ariadna looking like a porcelain doll in her ivory gown. Her flesh is covered in gooseflesh and her doe eyes dart around nervously at the feast but Andres is all charm and that winning smile. He caresses her, twirls her around the hall and she smiles, the warmth of it not reaching her eyes.   
There is no bedding ceremony, Andres jokingly says that it'd be bad luck to kill a man on his wedding night. Martin thinks he is the only one who knows it but when he turns to look at his lord's new little wife, he can see she knows it too. Martin goes to his room, next to his lord's. 

"Are you a maiden, my lady?" Andres asks coldly.

"Yes, my lord." the girl simpers out.

"You wouldn't lie to me, Ariadna? It'd be a bad way to start a marriage."

"No, my lord."

The next thing Martin hears is a gown ripping and a thud, probably the girl falling on the bed. He can hear Andres shushing her, kissing her and when she cries out in pain, Martin knows he's breached her. He has made peace with the fact that Andres must do this but something ugly burns in his chest when her cries turn to moans and when he can hear Andres panting, the bed thumping against the wall. He hates how he knows that Andres enjoys it, that he loves women and their curves and their cunts and how wet they get. And a young, beautiful lady like his new wife? He must enjoy it a lot.

Martin devises the most painful torture methods for Andres' new cunt. He'd love to gouge her pretty eyes out of her head, he'd love to gift her skin to Andres, to watch her burn. But he can't do anything to her yet, they must sweeten her, she must give Andres little lords. Deep down, he knows it's harder for Andres to hold back, to not push her to her hands and knees and do to her what proper little ladies don't do, only whores in taverns, to flay her pale skin until she begs him to cut it off completely.  
Martin becomes her confidant, as Andres is busy managing his family's seat and the North and he finds that Lady Ariadna is as scared of her lord husband as he thought he was. Martin wants to know, wants to know if her cunt aches with her fear, from Andres' animalistic eyes and cold voice, watching Andres flay a thief or a traitor, if that it excites her as much as it excites Martin. 

"The North agrees with you, my lady." he says, bowing and takes her by the arm and they walk around. The little fool is trembling with fear and he savors it, her shock makes her only that more fun to tease and lead on. 

"Thank you, my lord." she says flatly, eyes burning into the corpse of a thieving peasant Andres flayed two night ago, the crows pecking at his eyes. 

"Does it scare you, my lady? Death?"

"Death is inevitable, my lord. It's not what scares me. I think it's the fact my lord husband enjoys it that scares me. My father is a killer and his father before him too, but they kill during wars and rebellions because they must. They don't enjoy it."

"How do you know he enjoys it, my lady?"

"He enjoys hurting people." she whispers solemnly. Martin feigns innocence, laughing deep inside. 

"What do you mean, my lady?"

"He likes to wake me up at night, when no one can listen to us. He likes to choke me until I nearly pass out, he likes to bite me. He asks me to do things ladies shouldn't do. When I displease him, he likes to lay me across his knees and spank me as if I was a little unruly child."

"Lady Ariadna, do you not love your husband?"

"N-no, I love my husband. His tastes are a bit peculiar but I don't mind. Please don't tell him."

Of course, Martin tells him. 

Martin pours both him and Andres a Dornish red and slumps down on the bed. Andres is pacing, making Martin's head spin. He looks the same as when he watched his younger brother die, hating how he couldn't control it as he did every part of life in the North.

"What if she writes a letter to Dorne? What if she decides to sneak away with my child? Martin, aren't you fucking listening?" he roars, aiming his glass at Martin's head but missing spectacularly. Martin can only laugh because this is one of the only times he's bested Andres, truly bested him.

"She can't."

"What the fuck do you even mean?"

"It'd be hard to escape or even write a letter when you're chained in the Crying Tower."

Andres' eyes light up and he starts laughing like a maniac, pushing Martin on the bed, making a quick work of his clothes and takes him in his mouth. This was something Andres did when he was most pleased with Martin and as scared as he is to break the spell, this time Martin can't shut up.

"We'll feed her and keep her there. She'll give you heirs and when the time comes we'll get rid of her. As we did her predecessor."

Andres smiles around him and Martin throws his head back. It's all worth it for this. All the schemes, and hiding, and blood on his hands, it's all worth it.

Lord Bolton, with the help of his loyal Lord Dustin, runs the Dreadfort as expertly as ever, his son Sergio growing and bigger every day. Lady Bolton has fallen quite ill, already pregnant with Lord Bolton's second child and Lord Bolton, charming and handsome as ever, asks the commonfolk to pray for the health of his lovely wife and unborn child.

If they can hear a girl wailing in the dead of night, no one says anything.


End file.
